


watching you burn

by the_other_lutece_sister



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Dreamscapes, Eye Horror, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 17:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_lutece_sister/pseuds/the_other_lutece_sister
Summary: Rachel Duncan dreams.





	watching you burn

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the drowning plea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423994) by [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09). 



> I got the image of Rachel ripping her neolution eye out when I was reading The Drowning Plea, and I wanted to do something with that, so...

Rachel dug her fingers into her left eye, feeling it whirr against her fingertips, like it was trying to retreat into her skull. She gritted her teeth and managed to get a firm grip, breathed in, and  _ pulled. _

 

There was a wrenching pain and a horrible sensation of emptiness and then she was looking down (half-sight, she’d forgotten what that was like) at the blob in her palm. Metal and flesh and tiny mechanics. A true marvel of technology. 

 

She threw it on the floor and brought her heel down on it. Viscous fluid splattered over the floor, over her feet. The test tubes full of bone marrow. The pencil. But Sarah wasn’t tied to a bed here, so it was fine. It was fine. It was 

 

She woke up.

 

A vague ache behind her eye lingered. She blinked. It went away. She felt fine. 

 

She lay in bed and smiled. Every day was a new day.

  
  


Rachel stood in the kitchen, watching Sarah manning write around on the floor like a cockroach that didn’t know it was dead. She didn’t recognize the feeling that was pouring into her heart but it felt good. She had her mother’s blood on her dress and that felt good too. She had slid that knife into Sarah’s leg and that had felt better than anything.

 

She could do it again, if she wanted to. She could take another knife and make it so Sarah didn’t look anything like Rachel anymore. She could do anything, now, it was her time, she could take a shining blade to the world, and it would be fine, it would be fine, it would be

 

She woke up. 

 

Her fingers unclenched and she blinked.

 

She lay in bed and smiled. Every day was a new day.

 

Rachel sat on the white floor of a white room. It stretched out on every side, whiteness and light, soft and glowing. The pendant around her neck ticked, a tiny quiet tick that was the only sound in the vast nothingness. Even when she closed her eyes, all she could see was white, so she kept them open.

 

Wait. There was a shadow, just at the corner of her... she turned her head to the left. 

Nothing. 

She could feel it now, someone was behind her, watching. She turned her head to the right.

Nothing.

The shadow flickered. She pressed a single finger against her eyelid, shook her her head, opened it again. Oh.

It was the swan.

It stood before her, turning it’s head this way and that, examining her with it’s little red eyes.

Rachel stared back.

It was close enough to touch, to…

She thrust a hand out and gripped the bird around the neck. It screamed. The scream sounded like the way Sarah had screamed when she slid the knife in and her hand tightened.

Swan wings beat at her, white feathers surrounded her, she was in the middle of a storm of whiteness and she held on tight.

The wing beats grew weaker, and weaker, until the swan hung limp from her hand.

She let it drop to the floor. 

The shadow was gone. The watcher was gone.

She closed her eyes and saw blackness. Everything was fine now, it was fine, it was

  
  


She woke up.

Bright light streamed in from the window.

 

She lay in bed and smiled.

 

Every day was a brand new day. 

**Author's Note:**

> WAKE UP RACHEL
> 
>  
> 
> Put on my best Sunday dress  
> and I walk straight into this mess of mine  
> Put on my best Sunday dress  
> and I walk straight into this mess.
> 
> I've come here to confess  
> To the wind and the rain and the glorious fame  
> And I've come here all undressed  
> For the numb and the dumb and they're all the same name
> 
> Watching you burn  
> Watching you burn  
> Watching you burn  
> Watching you burn  
>  -best sunday dress - hole


End file.
